The Prince and the Agent
by TamaraJagellovsk
Summary: Captain John Hart, Time Agency, meets Loki, God of Mischief. Kaboom.


**An Actual Norse God**

John was sitting on the bed in the younger Æesir prince's quarters, his eyes traveling over Loki's pale skin. He ran his knuckles down his lover's naked back.

"You're myth, and you're magic, and you're insanely beautiful," he murmured.

Loki hummed and rolled over. Looking up at the time agent he gave him a lazy grin.

"_And_ you're sin itself," John breathed and claimed Loki's mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. Loki moaned into the kiss and then broke it, only to turn his head and bury his face between John's thighs. John's head fell back.

"Not to mention God of Mischief," he hissed between clenched teeth, and then he shut up for quite a while. Obviously it takes an actual Norse God to shut up John Hart.

**Time Tracking Device**

"So what are you going to do with your time off?" Jack asked over dinner.

"I might take a little Personal Time."

"When to?"

John grinned.

"I met a guy."

Jack chuckled.

"What else is new?"

Ignoring him John went on:

"I thought I'd go visit his home planet. Its local name is Asgard."

"When?"

"That's a bit tricky, which is why I left a TTD on him."

"You put a tracker on the poor guy on the first date?!"

John shrugged.

"He was too good to let him disappear into Time and Space."

John stepped out of the rift in Loki's private quarters, but the trickster was nowhere to be seen. Huh. John looked around and found what he was looking for on the bedside table. Loki had taken the tracker off, damn it! John assured himself that he was miffed, not hurt. Now where could Loki be, and how was he supposed to find him? He considered a second Time jump, but he'd only gotten one authorized and doing another might get him pulled. This vacation would be over before it began, and what was worse, an unauthorized personal Time jump would mean tons of paperwork. No. He decided to rely on more conventional measures.

He spent a lot of time in the dark, shabby taverns of the city, watching, listening, seducing and threatening, and ended up with a vague location high in the mountains. Apparently Loki hadn't been seen in a while—disappearing right after Asgard's Great Wall was built, whatever that was about. So John went on a hike—which was what people did on their vacations, right?

**Undomesticated Equine**

"I didn't expect you back so soon."

John closed his eyes with a smile. Oh that voice… like silk and velvet. He'd heard someone refer to Loki as Silvertongue. Certainly true. He turned around and froze. What the—?

"Loki?! Is that you?"

The horse rolled its eyes, and it was such a Loki thing to do that John was speechless.

"How did you get yourself into this?!"

"It's a long story."

"I bet. A horse."

Loki batted long eyelashes.

"Are you telling me you don't like me anymore?"

John snorted.

"You're a beauty, luv."

"Good. I need your help."

"Doing what?"

"Giving birth."

"What?!"

"I'm pregnant. And I'm close."

"You're what?!"

Loki huffed out a breath.

"Do I really have to tell you the whole story? _You_ could probably tell me what will happen."

"OK fine I'll help you."

* * *

"Oh no."

John didn't know much about equine midwifery, but this looked wrong.

"Don't go 'oh no' on a woman giving birth, damn it. What's up?" Loki panted.

"I don't think this baby should be born with all four hooves first, should it?"

Loki cursed in a language John's universal translator had a hard time with. But he'd recognize a curse anywhere. It was in the tone more than—

"John! Fuck you and your ancestors back as far as you can trace them! Help me!"

John had never felt this useless before in his whole life. He moved to where Loki's head lay on the ground and cradled it in his lap. The soft fur was damp with sweat, and he could see the white in the mare's eyes.

"I'm sorry, luv, I don't know what to do for you," he whispered.

Loki let out a breath.

"If the foal lives, make sure you get it back to the palace safely. Make the stable boys promise to take care of it."

"Whoa what are you talking about?"

"If it gets born the wrong way I'm not sure I'll survive that. Promise me."

"I'm a pathological liar, luv."

Loki threw his head up, missing John's face by an inch.

"For fuck's sake, John!"

"OK, OK. I promise to take care of Junior _if _you die. Satisfied?"

The tension left the mare's body, only her flanks rising and falling.

"Check if you can see the nose. Make sure it can breathe."

John did as he was told. He could see the head on top of the legs. Was that even supposed to be possible? The foal's little nose was covered in slime, so he carefully wiped it clean. Loki's whole body contracted. John flinched. That _had _to hurt! One more major push, and the foal slid onto the ground. John's eyes widened. Loki was breathing hard and tried to get up. John cleared his throat.

"Erm, Loki?"

Loki's head fell back. She was too exhausted to stand right now.

"What?"

"I have good news and bad news."

Loki didn't even respond.

"It's a boy, and he's breathing. And he's got eight legs."

* * *

"Now change back."

"I can't. I just gave birth."

Loki looked utterly exhausted. John gave her a soft smile.

"OK fine, rest. _Then_ change back."

"No."

"No?"

"My son needs me."

"Are you're saying you're going to stay in horse form?!"

"At least for half a year. Yes."

"Oh gods and monsters."


End file.
